Cause and Effect

**********
Chapter Twenty-Two
**********


Confused by Xander's strange, and rather sudden withdrawal, Spike was all set to follow, despite the fact that he couldn't see even as well as a human right now. Angel's quiet voice stopped him.

"Do you remember what the first blood sharing was like?" he asked.

Frowning, his thoughts immediately thrust back in time, Spike turned and stared incredulously at Angel. "Of course I bloody do! It isn't something a bloke easily forgets." Hesitating, casting another worried glance at the accusingly closed front door, Spike continued, his voice soft and full of remembrance. "Sharing is always . . . intense, you know that as well as I do, but that first time; it's a rush like no other."

Angel nodded slowly. "Xander's coming down off that."

Spike closed his eyes, swallowing against a rise of powerful sympathy, coupled with resentment. *Why* couldn't he remember? "When?"

"The sharing?" Angel asked.

Spike nodded, beginning to dread the answer.

"Just before we removed the bandages."

Spike's jaw dropped. "You're shitting me!"

Angel shook his head.

A thousand scenarios ran through Spike's mind, most of them passing faster than even he could follow. First and foremost, however; ran the question, 'what would I have done if Angelus had pushed me away back then?'.

"Angel," Spike began hesitantly, not certain he wanted to confide in the older vampire, not altogether certain he wanted the knowledge he was about to ask for, either. "How did it come to that? I mean, even if *I* would have allowed that kind of thing before . . . all this -- not saying I would have, mind you -- Xander sure as hell wouldn't have." Spike wondered what it would have taken to get Xander to do such an about face. "What the hell was I like? The time I can't remember?"

Angel looked down, hesitant also. Finally, he shrugged and met Spike's fuzzy gaze. "Much like I would imagine a very hurt William would have," he said.

**Great!** Spike thought, **so much for the last of my tattered image.**

"Since I've been here, Xander's been *very* protective of you."

Spike looked at him in utter astonishment. "Xander?" he asked. "Mr. I hate all things vampire, but I'll grudgingly admit that *some* are useful?"

Angel chuckled and nodded. "You know Xander; he's a man of extremes. He hates with everything he is, but everything else is the same too. Once he gives his friendship, it'd take . . . . Well, I don't know *what* it would take to shake his loyalty." Angel paused, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "I don't know what you think of Xander's theory, in part or in whole, but you should give some thought to it. Personally, I think he's right -- on *all* counts." When Spike said nothing in reply, Angel switched subjects. "You know, he admitted to me that the two of you were becoming friends before all this."

Spike shrugged uncomfortably, looking away. "Yeah, what of it?"

"Nothing," Angel replied immediately, "Just that Xander's protects his friends, almost as fiercely as a vampire protects what belongs to them."

Spike's eyes widened as he jerked his head back around to stare at Angel. "And now, he's basically got *both* drives working for him."

Angel simply nodded.

A wave of nausea rolled through Spike -- and he was getting *so* sick of that! **What have I done?**

With an anguished look, he strode away from Angel, jerking open the front door. Racing out, he didn't slow until he hit the front steps of the apartment building -- ignoring Angel's cries to stop. Taking a deep breath he scented the wind, hoping to catch the traces of Xander's unique scent.

There it was -- and far stronger than he'd expected, even if Xander *had* just left. He grinned suddenly. Xander hadn't gone far. Spike turned in a slow radius, searching out the form he knew was nearby. It didn't take long.

Xander was sitting on the edge of the sidewalk about half a block away.

Spike approached quietly.

"I hear it's dangerous to be out in this town at night," he said softly, dropping down to sit next to Xander. He didn't look at Xander, just stared out across the street, and waited.

"I'm sorry," Xander said finally.

"Not your fault," Spike replied. "You had no idea your 'good samaritan' deed would be punished."

Xander snorted. "I should have," he replied sourly. "It's happened often enough."

Spike cringed inwardly, despite his best intentions. No matter what else he thought of the entire cursed situation, it still hurt to know that Xander really *did* think it a punishment. He almost got up, then, almost left Xander alone. He didn't.

"I wasn't pushing you away in there," he said softly.

"Sure seemed like it," Xander replied bitterly. "But, hey, that's okay. I'm used to it."

Spike winced. "Well, I wasn't. That had nothing to do with you."

Xander turned his head to look at Spike, and Spike found himself returning the look.

"That was me feeling sorry for myself, trying to--" Spike shook his head. "Trying to distance myself from it all. I don't think you can understand--" he stopped abruptly. "You're the one who patched me up, right?"

Xander nodded.

"I'm sure you took the time to . . . catalogue what the injuries were?"

Again Xander nodded.

**Damn!** Spike sighed, **there goes that hope.** "I don't think you can understand just what the fangs mean to a vamp."

"Well, I know my initial reaction had the more vulnerable parts of my body crawling back up inside me where it was *safe*," Xander replied, turning to stare back across the street.

Spike let out a single harsh laugh. "Damn close, Harris."

"They'll, um," Xander began tentatively, "grow back, right?"

Spike's look became closed, and he shuddered. "Everything else that I've ever heard of being cut off or removed does . . . eventually. I certainly hope so."

"So do I."

That quiet encouragement was Spike's undoing. Tears filled his eyes, and it was all he could do to stop them before they spilled down his face. "Xander?"

"Yeah?"

"I've never heard of a vampire who lost them before," Spike admitted quietly, the very thought worrying him more than he thought right.

"Shit."

Letting out a watery chuckle, Spike had to agree. It was an accurate assessment of the situation.

"They will; might take awhile though."

"How can you be so sure?"

Xander shrugged, not moving, still staring across the street. "Just am."

"The eternal optimist."

It was Xander's turn to laugh. "Yeah, that's me. The useless Zeppo, sure things will always turn out right -- no matter how many times I get kicked."

"Stop that!"

Xander turned incredulous eyes on him. "Stop what?"

"Feeling sorry for yourself, putting yourself down." Spike replied, the softened his voice. "You're not useless."

Xander snorted.

"Took you under my wing, didn't I?" Spike asked. "I wouldn't do that if you were useless, now would I?"

Xander laughed then, really laughed.

"So, no more slamming yourself; the big bad doesn't take on useless cases."

Grinning idiotically, Xander once again turned to face him. "I'm glad you're back, Spike. I missed you."

Something Spike didn't want to identify too closely welled up inside him, but on the heels of it came a slight twinge of fear, too. "Didn't like the way I was . . . before, huh?" he asked carefully. As much as he usually refused to admit it, William was very much a part of him, had been even before Willow had returned his soul. Since then, even more so. Of course, he usually remained *very* well hidden, but that didn't mean William didn't have his affects on him.

"I didn't say that," Xander replied, his grin turning sheepish. "It's just," Xander paused, shrugging before he continued. "William. . . ."

Spike startled slightly to hear that name on Xander's lips.

". . . .is a good person. Would have wondered what happened to him, perhaps, but I liked him. The thing is; *Spike* is the one I became friends with."

Spike grinned. The best of both worlds.

They sat silently, acknowledging the vulnerable truth Xander had just bared.

Spike drew in a swift breath as the incredible urge to simply lean forward and kiss Xander hit him.

Xander's eyes widened.

Spike started to turn away, when images, scenes he didn't remember, flashed through his mind. Him, laying down. Xander beside him. Him leaning forward.

His own eyes widened. "I kissed you!" he said incredulously, shock flooding him that he would actually *do* that, even as he wondered how he got out of that situation without getting re-injured. The Xander he remembered what have walloped him good -- just for thinking about it, let alone *doing* it. As weak as he was, it wouldn't have taken much effort on Xander's part.

"Yeah," Xander acknowledged, "you did."

Spike wondered at the nervous wariness he suddenly felt from Xander, but before he could ask, Xander continued in a rush.

"I swear I didn't take advantage of your memory loss, Spike. I might have been tempted," the boy admitted, "but nothing but the blood sharing and a little kissage happened, and Angel said the sharing had to happen anyway, to complete the link, or I would remain out of--"

Holding out a hand and placing it across Xander's babbling mouth, Spike's own mouth quirked upward in an amused smirk. "I believe you," he said quietly, then chuckled. The very idea that Xander would 'take advantage' of *anyone* was ludicrous in the extreme. That babble had been pure Xander, though. "You can relax," Spike reassured. Then the substance of what Xander had said began to sink in, rather than just the rhythm of nervous babble.

He blinked against the suddenly renewed rush of images and sensations, gasping as the feelings assaulted him.

"You okay," Xander asked, just as the images slowed.

Spike nodded numbly, his gaze fixated on Xander's mouth, a mouth he now knew was talented, *very* talented. He now had more than second hand knowledge from Anya. Xander had kissed him back. Then he did something he never, ever, imagined he'd do. He leaned forward, tentatively brushing his lips across Xander's. Only half aware of what he was doing, relief flooded him when Xander didn't instantly pull back in outraged shock.

Xander gasped, though; his lips parting in a surprised, 'oh'.

Just before he pulled back, Spike felt the tip of Xander's tongue trace across his upper lip -- and he was lost, the gentle touch his complete undoing. He leaned in further, deepening the kiss, his own tongue seeking out Xander's. He moaned into Xander's mouth as the human's ardor rose swiftly, the warm mouth moving over his with greedy assurance. He reached out, cupping the back of Xander's neck with his hand, just as he felt Xander do the same.

He didn't think much after that, he just *felt*. He felt amazing things. He felt surprising things. He felt . . . safe, in a way he hadn't in oh-so-very-long. He felt wanted -- and whole. He felt cherished. It all tumbled through him in an incredible rush, all accompanied by a *very* surprising, heady dose of lust. He almost jerked back, the confusing mix overwhelming and, as much as he didn't want to admit it, frightening. The last time he'd felt anything like this, he'd gotten hurt. No, he'd gotten his heart soundly trounced.

Xander beat him to it. He jerked back, turning his head away. Oddly enough, he left his hand lightly cupping the back of Spike's neck.

"We shouldn't do this," Xander whispered hoarsely, his breath coming in quick, uncontrolled pants.

"Why?" Spike asked, hurt, confusion, fear, all rushing through him. **I *knew* it!** he thought viciously, dropping his own hand and jerking away from Xander's. He hated feeling that way. It made him angry. It made him defensive. It made him want to lash out. "Not good enough for you?" he asked bitterly.

"No!" Xander exclaimed, and Spike thought he heard shock at the very idea in the human's voice.

Oh, how he wanted that to be true. He waited, nearly biting his tongue in order to keep the hateful, hurting words his protective instincts ached to spew forth.

"You're not yourself, yet. You've been through so much."

Spike's jaw dropped. He felt it. He snapped it shut quickly, however.

"Until you've healed -- completely," Xander continued with a shake of his head, "I can't. I'd feel like I was. . . ." His voice trailed off.

"You'd feel like you were 'taking advantage'." Spike finished for him, not able to judge whether shock, or amusement, that had the upper hand inside of himself.

Unbelieving that he was doing this, putting himself out on a limb like this, Spike reached out again. This time, however, it was to place two fingers under Xander's chin and tilt the younger man's gaze back toward him. "You may be right in that I'm not completely back to 'my old self'. You may, and I stress *may* be right about more than that. Obviously there are still some things wrong in my noggin', or I wouldn't still have gaping holes in the old memory." He paused, making sure Xander was really listening to him. "But I know who and what I am. I remember everything up to the moment. . . ." he voice trailed off. What *was* the last thing he remembered? He shook his head. It didn't matter right now. "Well, everything other than being snatched and what happened since. I can assure you, I know exactly what I'm doing," he finished, once again leaning forward, his eyes not leaving Xander's until the last possible second.

His touched his mouth to Xander's once again, then pulled back until there was barely a brush of air between them. "Believe me," he whispered, before re-closing the distance.

Xander moaned into his mouth, simply receiving his attention for an eternal two or three seconds.

Spike gasped as Xander suddenly pushed forward, both hands cupping Spike's face as, this time, he took the initiative, deepening the kiss into a possessive claim of Spike's mouth. It ended all too quickly to suit Spike; however, as soon as it did, Xander's soft words floated to him, and they were the sweetest words he'd ever heard.

"I believe you."


TBC
Kiristeen
Feedback utterly craved and deliciously treasured. : )
Kiristeen@kiristeen.com